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Predictably, Hrassi immediately tenses up, his expression becoming carefully blank.
"Cause I've been having a bit of the ol' think on our way here and I'll be honest mate, nothing really comes to mind. And also: House Maevian? That's a very long way from home for her to come and visit a nomad station skirting the edges of civilized space. Mind you, I'm not conceited enough to think she'd come all the way out here just for me - like I said, I'm a nobody - I'm sure she has far more important business, if not on Barter itself then somewhere in this sector of space, surely. But that still leaves the question of why she would bother with some low rank electrician. Any idea what's on her mind?"
When your perfectly reasonable query is once again met with silence, you're left with no choice but to force a response.
"I mean, I get it, you don't want to talk about your employer, maybe you <span class="mu-i">can't</span> talk about her - I don't know what they made you sign when you hired on. But you clamming up like that is starting to make me a bit antsy. Cause where I'm from, a noble taking interest in someone for no reason is almost never a good thing. And you know how I mentioned that shuttle earlier? It's starting to look increasingly tempting the longer you stay mum. So come on, throw me a bone here, would you?"
This, at last, gets a reaction.
"You are not in any danger and no harm will come to you," Hrassi says in the stilted manner of someone repeating words they're being told to say. "Marchioness Shanaia simply wishes to converse with you. And ask you about a certain name."
"Maia Taris?" you shrug and smile at the look he gives you. "What? It's not like it's a big secret you've been looking for her - heard about it from a guy earlier today. A noble asking around after Maia Taris, offering good cred for good information."
"The Marchioness wants to know about Maia Taris, yes," Hrassi nods. And, after a pause, adds: "And to offer her a well-paid job."
You thoughtfully scratch your chin.
"And what if the Marchioness was to find out that Maia Taris is in no position to accept this no doubt generous offer?"
A longer pause - long enough that you have time to take a couple of bites from your sandwich.
"Whatever obligations or debts may be keeping her on this station, the Marchioness is willing and able to settle all of them," Hrassi replies finally. In a very predictable manner, given how you phrased your statement.
"My apologies for not making myself clear," you say, pausing only to lick the sauce off your fingers. "You see... Maia Taris died a little over sixty-three standard years ago."
(cont)
